


Steve's Phone

by Inalltheglory



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inalltheglory/pseuds/Inalltheglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers has been keeping secrets on his phone, and now Tony has found them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve's Phone

               Steve was sitting at the bar facing away from him, but Tony could practically feel it. He was chewing on his lower lip, making it cherry red and swollen, not paying attention to anything except his sketches. It was perfect, it was right there, Tony could just reach out and grab it. It was there, begging for him, calling his name out to be in his hands. Tony stared at it, palms sweating, and gulped hard. _“Oh, the things I want to do to you…”_ He thought, wickedly. He must’ve been standing there for a few minutes, Steve was sure to have noticed his presence by now, but fuck it, he was going to go for it. His hand lifted from his side of its own volition, eagerly reaching out. _“So close!”_ Only inches away, his fingers twitched eagerly. They were just about to close around it, when Steve’s hand shot out and it was gone back into his pocket in a flash. Tony snarled in frustration, his conquest gone again.

               “Tony, I can hear you panting like a dog in heat. I told you, I don’t want a new phone! Leave this one alone.” Steve sighed, his gaze not leaving the work in front of him.

               “I’m not going to give you a new one, I’m just going to upgrade this one! Gimme it, damn you.” Tony whined loudly, determined not to let Steve escape him this time. The damn phone was a year old, a _year_ old, and it needed to be replaced.

               “You said that about the last one! I just got used to this one and I’m keeping it. Go bother Clint about his phone, or hell, I’m sure Thor broke his already.” Tony huffed angrily, his eyes stuck on Steve’s pocket in which his phone lay prisoner in the khakis.

               “Clint doesn’t deserve a new phone, if anything I’ll give him an older one. And I Thor proofed all the new phones, he can’t possibly break this one unless he lets the Hulk have it again.” That was a goddamned disaster, Tony thought. Kitties were great for the big guy, until he came across fighting or scared cats, and then he had smashed the phone and became more unreasonable than ever. Now, all future cat pictures were on a preapproved slideshow on every single Starkphone. “Just let me have it! You won’t even notice the difference between models.” Of course, a lie. The new phone was completely different.

               “Tony, you’ve been badgering me for weeks and I’ve told you every time, _no_.”

               “I’m not leaving without your phone.” Tony declared, crossing his arms defiantly. Steve just shook his head and the sound of rolling eyes could nearly be heard.

               “You do what you want, but we both know you’re going to get sick of standing here and you’ll just go to your lab. I’ll keep my phone and the world will keep turning.” Steve waited for the upcoming whine, but only heard his charcoal on paper and peeled away from his work. No Tony Stark here, not anymore. He patted his pocket and swore, rising out of his seat fast enough to make the stool wobble.

               “God DAMN it, Tony! Give it back!” He yelled, but Tony was already in his shop, and JARVIS had been given strict orders to not let Steve anywhere near him. His cheeks practically burned from smirking all the way down to the workshop. He could best Steve, any time, any day, he could still take him on. Except maybe sparring, where Steve had the physical advantage. Even if Tony was twice the size he was now and three times as fast, there was no way he could even scratch the super soldier without his suit.

               He plugged the phone into his system and let JARVIS get to work on it, pulling anything important from it to be moved into the next model. He had to bite his cheek from laughing as there was pounding on the workshop door, Steve yelling for him to open the door and give his fucking phone back. Tony just yelled back, amusement glossed over his words,

               “You know, you’d think you’d have a little more sensation when someone’s digging in your pant pocket! I know you’ve got that whole situation downstairs on lockdown, but, Jesus!”

               “JARVIS, let me in! Please, Tony, just give my phone back!” Tony looked up, eyebrows linked together as Steve’s voice pitched up in an anxious tone. He was pleading for his phone.

               “What’s the big deal? You’ve never cared this much about me messing around with your phone before. Just go do something, I’ll have it finished in no time. I’ll even add a personal touch, now go away. There’s no getting out of this, Rogers.” Steve grit his teeth together and balled his fists. His back straightened into the trademark soldier’s posture and he marched up the stairs as though grudgingly facing a superior officer, his lips pursed into a thin line. Tony shook his head, still amused. Any rise he could conjure out of stick-in-the-mud Rogers was good entertainment. The only fun the guy ever seemed to have was movie night, sketching, and when he and Tony had time to hang around, having endless discussions hours into the early morning. Of course, those were usually just to keep Tony entertained and to keep him from falling asleep. Sleeping wasn’t so pleasant when it was only nightmares. He wasn’t entirely sure why Steve bothered sticking around for the talks, but he supposed he might be bored as well. More likely that he pitied Tony and talked simply to be polite. Not that that would stop Tony from talking. He enjoyed it too much when people actually bothered to listen to him. Ego thing, he supposed.

               “Man, guy needs to let off some steam, am I right J?”

               “As always, Sir.” Tony hummed inattentively, more to himself.

               “Maybe I should get him drunk, that outta loosen him up.”

               “Good luck.” Jarvis spoke dryly.

               “Oh, don’t be so pissy. Not a good time to judge my morals, JARVIS. I’m sure we could figure something out to get him plastered. You got all the data off that piece of junk?”

               “Yes sir, there’s quite a lot of it.” JARVIS bubbled with a bit of joy, quite unusual for him. Not that anyone else would hear it, mind you, but Tony knew his own AI well enough.

               “Yeah? What the hell’s he got on here? Music? I told him not to worry about that…” Tony trailed off, a little guilty. He had promised months ago to help Steve move his music collection to a digital form. Another task he had forgotten about.

“No, Sir, 3,451 photos.” Tony felt his eyes jump from his head in disbelief.  
“3,451 photos? What the hell, has gramps been taking pocket pictures or something?”

He moved to the monitor that showed the large sum of data. Without even thinking, Tony reached out and touched the file marked ‘Photos’ on the holoscreen. The file’s contents fanned out all around him, displaying each photo, and suddenly Tony wished he hadn’t.

He shouldn’t have been so stupid, so ignorant. Most people’s photos were a coveted thing, usually personal. Not that Tony would have believed Steve would have anything personal. He was hardly very knowledgeable about technology, Tony doubted he knew anything in the realm of nudes or dick pics. There weren’t any of course, which Tony cursed a bit. Despite being a tightwad, Steve was so, so unbelievably sexy. “ _No, wait, what? Push that back brain, we don’t need that. Stop pumping blood to the penis and bring it back to think straight._ ” No, nudes were something he could have handled. Pictures of Steve’s cock; that he could deal with. This was something he couldn’t process.

There were a few team photos at the beginning, and then a few of each member. Nothing special, just getting ready for a mission, nodding off in a briefing, and then a few on movie nights, and then some from each teammate as they lived their life in the tower. Natasha, hair ruffled from sleep, no makeup on, in the middle of cursing Steve out in pink lacy pajamas. Bruce nursing a cup of tea, eyes half open. Clint with an arrow between his teeth as he braided Natasha’s hair for the morning. Thor, hoarding pop tarts for breakfast. Tony, grease smeared all over his face and ash in his hair. Tony, working on the armor. Tony, on the sofa working with a tablet. Tony, making coffee in sweats and no shirt. Tony, passed out on the sofa on movie night. Tony, drunk in the workshop.

Tony, Tony, Tony, it just kept going. They were mostly of him when his back was turned away, when he was working on something and had the rest of the world tuned out, or when he was sleeping. There were quite a few of him sleeping. Sleeping in places he had no recollection of sleeping, but had likely passed out for a brief moment when he was working. He can’t imagine he actually slept with his face on socket wrenches. Most of the time, he had been woken by Steve when he had fallen asleep in unusual places, which happened far too often. Once, Tony had gone a little over four days without rest when the nightmares had been particularly nasty, and he vaguely recalled falling to the workshop floor, and waking in his bed. In between those two places was foggy, but he smelled of vetyver and citrus when he woke and recalled being held close to someone.

Tony looked up and realized he had scrolled all the way through to the end of the photos, the last being him looking out over the city, face relaxed, sun on his skin and wind in his hair. Tony moved out of the photos and found the video file had a few videos. He clenched his jaw, really no more harm to be done than had already, though he was very conscious he was now at the point of blatantly snooping. The first was when one of the armor stations had malfunctioned and had taken hold of him by the ass, leaving him to dangle there. The whole team had been there for that one, just coming back from a mission, and he had dangled there, begging the machine to please not destroy anything that couldn’t be replaced, namely certain valuable body parts. Apparently, Steve had chosen this moment to record, the video shaking all over as he doubled over in full bodied laughter, his rich voice making a heat bubble in Tony’s chest. That one at least had been very short. The next two, had not, the second being footage of a very inebriated Tony, slurring at the camera. Steve’s voice came through, trying to hold back laughter,

“Ok, now that I have video for blackmailing purposes, what was that you were saying?” Tony sighed, dipping his pinky into a glass of scotch to play with the ice cubes.

“You’re smart, you’re so damn smart. It’s aggravating. And you’re good, which pisses me off too, because how am I supposed to compete with that? Smart, nice, sexy, you’ll have the ladies all over you.” He finished the drink and crunched an ice cube in his mouth, his lips turning up. The voice behind the camera had gone suspiciously silent.

“What was that?” Tony chuckled, a bit of ice cube escaping his lips.

“Like you would even know what to do. I can suck on this ice cube and laugh my stupid ass off, because _you wouldn’t even know_ what to do if someone came at you.” Tony’s eyes glazed over a bit and he stared Steve down through half lidded eyes, a sultry look on his face. “You don’t have any damn idea how fucking _gorgeous_ you are, do you?” He smiled crookedly and his head sunk down onto the bar counter, asleep now. The video cut immediately to the next one, this time Tony was sleeping in the workshop, head propped on his arms, bent over a table. Steve swore softly,

“Shit, I don’t want video…” There was some fumbling with the phone and Steve’s face showed on the screen, brows furrowed and face flushed. He froze suddenly and Tony’s voice had murmured in the background. Tony’s heart fell as Steve’s eyes widened and he set the phone down, still recording. Of course, Tony had to be dreaming, had to talk in his sleep. It didn’t happen often, only when he had put off sleep for much too long. He was twitching on the table, face twisted and jaw clenched tight to bite back screams.

“No, no… _no_ , please.” He shuddered out in horrified whispers. Steve moved to his side without hesitation and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder to wake him.

“Tony? Tony, it’s just a dream.” Steve shook him gently and that was when Tony struck out. Instinctively, Steve grabbed his arm and held him from thrashing around. The smaller man yelled in panic against the restraint.

“No! Let go of me, get your hands off of me!” Steve held him securely, probably not using much of his strength, and pulled him into a tight embrace, fighting against him.

“Tony, calm down! Calm down, I’m here, it’s just me, buddy, it’s Steve.” He spoke soft and low, his voice soothing in Tony’s ear. He began to relax in his arms and slumped back against Steve’s body, panting heavily with exhaustion. “That’s right, you’re ok, you’re safe. I’m here and I’m not going to let anyone get you. Shhh…” He reached a hand into Tony’s hair and ran his hands in it comfortingly. Tony had gone completely limp and Steve picked him up in his arms and set him down in the sofa that was in the workshop. He pulled a blanket out from one of the workbenches and draped it over him. He sat down next to Tony’s head and stroked his thumb over Tony’s cheek as he rested. The video cut off a few minutes later, presumably the battery had died, and left Tony Stark in the present, still. He sank slowly into a chair and pressed his face into his hands.

“What the hell do I do now?”

****

               He came up the stairs, almost two hours later and Steve was worrying over his sketchpad, but had gotten nothing done in the time that Tony had left with his phone. Steve stood up, back straight and put on his soldier’s mask as though waiting to be hit. Tony just raised a brow and handed him the new phone.

               “That ought to do, for now. But I’m probably going to have a new one ready for you in a few months, so enjoy it. I moved everything from the last one to this one, took the liberty of changing the lock screen, wallpaper, and personalized everyone’s ringtones. I also put all your music on there, so it’s there if you want it. If you lose this one, I’m going to be mad, it took me a whole two hours to get everything on there right, so you’d better appreciate it.” He shot Steve a look, who was just standing there, mouth moving but no words coming out.

               “Tony, I’m…I’m sorry, I know they’re creepy, and weird, and I had no right-“ Tony held up a hand to stop him.

               “You’re right, they are. Star spangled briefs, Rogers? Leave them in the dryer again and I’ll make sure they’re out on a flagpole somewhere.” Steve drew back, eyes blinking hard in confusion.

               “What?”

               “Your spangled skivvies, if you leave them in the dryer again, some elementary school kids are going to be saying the pledge of allegiance to them every morning.”

               “Oh…okay. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Steve frowned as though trying to remember if he actually did own American flag underwear. “So, nothing else?” He waved the phone around.

               “Nothing else? I only put decades worth of music on the newest, most bulletproofed phone for you, what more do you want?”

               “Nothing… I just…Nothing.” Tony shrugged, trying his damnedest to act nonchalant. After all, he could still fool Steve.

               “You want to watch a movie?” He nodded to the TV and Steve’s face lit up in relief and joy. He sat himself on the sofa and started looking for a movie while Tony just watched. _“Oh shit, you’re in deep now, Stark.”_ He had thoroughly checked out Steve’s ass when he had gone to the couch, and was fucking _blushing_ about it. Still, at least he could keep his poker face. He had left a few little surprises on Steve’s phone, including a new picture and some very suggestive search history on the browser. Whether or not he found the picture, time would tell.

**Author's Note:**

> This was definitely supposed to be a one off story, but since there's interest, I can  
> *Write Steve's perspective of events  
> *Write a continuation of the story  
> *Play around some more
> 
> Let me know what you think =)
> 
> (Also I wrote a companion story that isn't a prequel or sequel, but is in the same 'universe'. http://archiveofourown.org/works/3728905 Check it out and keep letting me know if I should continue to add on.)


End file.
